Broken
by thisonefeelslikeaflower
Summary: Shepard struggles with dealing with the events that occurred on Thessia. James attempts to comfort her. FShep/James


James almost felt sympathy for his punching bag.

Shepard hadn't spoken for half an hour now. If he wasn't already aware of how calloused her knuckles were, he would be surprised that they weren't bleeding from the beating that she was giving the swinging bag. At least she was quiet now. When the elevator to the Normandy's hangar had delivered her, she had been sharply barking orders into her radio. Then she had paced for some time, muttering and wringing her hands. When she had finally turned to the bag, she was yelling. Sometimes it was curses, swears. Other times simply wordless releases of frustration. He had stopped listening after a while, and had remained quiet the whole time.

When she finally finished, there was no warning. She just stopped. Her leg had shot out to give a kick, the other had slipped out from under her, and then she was on the ground, motionless. James counted the seconds of one minute. Two. Four.

"C'mon, Shepard. Get up."

She didn't turn and remained quiet. He leaned down to place a hand on her shoulder, and she twitched violently. "Do not touch me, Vega."

James wordlessly tugged at her shoulder in an attempt to turn her onto her back. He hated seeing her like this. He could understand a Shepard who would release all of her tensions onto his punching bag. He understood a Shepard who solved problems quickly and efficiently. But this? This thing that was curled up in fetal position, weak and scared, on the dirty floor of the hangar? His mind screamed.

"Shepard, this isn't you. Stand up." He reached now for her other shoulder.

"That was an order, Vega." Her voice was strained.

"Stand. Up."

"Last time I checked, you were not the commanding officer of this ship."

"I know what you're thinking, Shepard, and I will not let you do this to yourself." James grabbed for his chair and scraped it noisily against the metal flooring until he sat in front of Shepard. She was sitting up now, elbows propped loosely up on her bent knees. Her face was a mask. "Do you think we don't see it, Lola?" he said softly. "Do you think we don't _get it_?"

"Get what, Lieutenant?" Her voice was flat. Tired. And then all at once, loud and hard. "Get. What?"

"What you're thinking right now. What you're feeling. Thessia was awful, I know. I was there, remember? Don't you for a second think that you're supposed to carry this burden alone."

Shepard sighed and looked away. "That's not what I sai-."

"No, hush. Listen to me." He grabbed for her shoulders again and this time she didn't push him away. "That's the thing, Lola. You never say anything. I might not have been here as long as the others, but we've still been through hell together. And we've been through hell apart, too. Hundreds of colonists died because of a decision I made. Garrus lost his entire squad. How do you think Javick feels? He's the last living member of his entire race. We've all been through shit. Do not beat yourself up over this."

Shepard's fists clenched in her lap. "You're telling me that after having lost a few million lives, after having lost an entire fucking planet, I'm not supposed to be upset? That after losing the only thing that could help us defeat the Reapers, I'm not supposed to be upset? That since I wasn't able to kill the bastard that killed Thane and stole our literal last chance at saving our asses, I'm just supposed to let that go?" Her hands were shaking. "We were right there, James. We were so close. I should have done better. It's my job to do better." Her voice was quiet.

His voice was very loud. "You didn't lose anything!" He roared. "God, Shepard, you act like you personally delivered the asari to the Reapers. You did everything you could have, and you did what you thought was right, and that is _all_ that _any_ of us can do right now. You gave up nothing."

"It's my job to do better," she repeated. Her voice was hard now, and her expression like a closed book. "And it's not your job to give me a goddamned therapy session, Lieutenant." She said his rank like the word was poisonous to her. He knew she was doing it to make the separation in rank obvious, but he wasn't having it.

James was silent for a moment. He had known of this woman for years before actually meeting her. He had known her as everyone else had: the first human Spectre, Savior of the Citadel, Destroyer of the Collector Base, the best weapon against the Reapers. He had seen her smiling profile on the news, had cheered her on like all the others. At first she was a superhuman to him. The smiling face, the cool confidence, the calm detachment. She could handle anything.

It wasn't true. Sure, she was still the most badass woman he'd ever met. And the most capable. But she was still human. He could see her cracking at the edges. He remembered seeing the dark circles under her eyes even through the plastic of her helmet. With a grunt he lowered himself onto the floor in front of her and pushed his chair away.

"Can we please get away from this "job" shit? I'd like to think that what you've got here, this crew and these people, is more than that to you." He leaned forward, trying to meet her blues eyes that had lowered down to the floor. "I'm not talking to you because someone told me to. Not because the stress you're putting on your body is scaring Chakwas shitless. Not because I want to make sure my "commanding officer" is adequately functional." He reached out again and put a hand on her upper arm. "It's because I care about you, Lola. Because we all do. And you're not lookin' too good."

Finally her eyes rose, though they were still unreadable. "But I'm trying, Vega, really. What do you want me to do? How do I fight to keep what we've got if I don't take time to remember what we've lost?"

"All I'm asking is that you don't blame yourself, Shepard. Don't keep that shit inside. I've tried it, and it only festers. It only makes things worse." On a whim he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You may be Commander, but you've got a family here too, Lola. Don't ignore that. Remember the lost. Grieve. But don't let it consume you."

He was silent as he watched her break. The tension in her posture relaxed and she allowed her head to fall forward onto his chest. Her hard eyes melted and tears blurred out the freckles on her cheeks. He felt her shoulder begin to shake underneath his hand, and then he felt her whole body shudder with sobs as he wrapped his arms around her. Although he loved his commander for her tough, strong exterior, it was especially comforting to discover that there was something soft and heartbreakingly lovely underneath her armor.

They remained like that for some time. He let her cry as he stroked her hair and whispered things in Spanish that she probably wouldn't understand. Even when she was finished they remained as they were and talked, with Shepard more open and honest than she had ever been before. When she finally left James felt as if there was something fresh about her, something new. There on the dirty floor of the hangar she had picked up her broken pieces and put herself back together, though not in the same way as before.


End file.
